The Enemy
by Tintern Abbey
Summary: Destroying Alanna is a lot harder than Alex anticipated. [Alex/Alanna]


_Disclaimer: _All characters and settings belong to Tamora Pierce.

_Note: _This was originally posted to the Goldenlake forum in response to the Strangelove exchange. It was written for magenellofgalla.

* * *

**The Enemy**

* * *

_Alex turned to Alanna. The nasty smile was replaced by concern. "Alan, I didn't—here, let me help you up—"_

_"Don't touch me!" Alanna cried as he reached for her. She quickly added, "Please, Alex—it's my collarbone. I think it's broken."_

_Alex knelt beside her, his face tense. "Alan, I'll never forgive myself—"_

_She smiled tightly, beginning to feel sick. "It's all right. We just got a little carried away. With my Gift I'll be fine in a couple of days."_

_— In the Hand of the Goddess_

* * *

He stalked through the palace halls, a small box clutched in one hand, and remembered a pair of wide purple eyes gazing at him in confusion and fear. The memory gave him pain. It gave him pleasure. He didn't _want_ the owner of those purple eyes to hate him, yet there was a part of Alex—the part that wanted to be the greatest knight in the realm, to see Duke Roger upon the throne, to be worthy of becoming King's Champion—that longed to see the light extinguished from those eyes forever.

Alex glanced at the box in his hand and knew he could easily poison the chocolates contained inside. Just a bite or two and Alan—no, _Alanna_, the devious little hussy—would be writhing in agony upon her bed in the infirmary. But no, it was too risky, and Alex felt... conflicted. He couldn't possibly kill Alanna; not when he had gone through the trouble of going down to the city and purchasing a box of chocolates as a peace offering. Not when some strange emotion seized hold of his heart during their untimely duel and forced him to snap out of — _whatever_ it was that fueled his bloodlust in the first place.

He vaguely remembered Roger speaking to him alone, a bright gem hanging on a chain around his neck, but Alex couldn't recall what the conversation was about. It didn't matter. The infirmary was up ahead and Alex moved along at his steady, silent pace that reminded so many people of a cat slinking about at night. Alex liked the comparison. Without his cat-like stealth, he would have never discovered Alanna's secret. She thought she was so clever, sneaking around the palace disguised as a boy, but if Alex couldn't destroy her with a sword, then he would expose her for the scheming liar she was and rid himself of his rival once and for all.

Yet her eyes haunted him, reminding him of the sudden anguish he felt when he realized he had hurt her. He hated the way she made him feel, and he wanted to hate _her_ for causing those feelings, but his anger cooled with every step he took. More than anything, he wanted to set eyes upon her face again, even if it was only for a moment.

He found Delia loitering outside the infirmary, a ribbon clutched in one pretty hand, and she pouted when Duke Baird informed her that Squire Alan would see no visitors. "Oh, what a pity," Delia sighed. "Do tell Squire Alan that I wish him a fast recovery, won't you? And give him this ribbon as a token." She handed the ribbon to Duke Baird, who retreated back into the depths of the infirmary, and straightened her skirts before she rustled away, heading straight towards Alex.

"I see you've heard about Alan," Alex said quietly.

A charming little laugh found its way past Delia's lips, the kind of laugh that befuddled nearly every man from the lowliest stable hand to the king himself. "Yes, poor Squire Alan," she cooed. "I heard he was injured in a bit of competitive swordplay. How tragic!"

Alex held back a smirk, watching her with a face as blank as stone. Delia didn't know she was making a fool of herself, deliberately flirting with another girl. She did, however, know that she was mocking Alex, but he was no stranger to her subtle little taunts. She had always resented him for being close to Roger.

"Yes," Alex echoed coolly. "How tragic."

"But why are you lurking near the infirmary?" Delia asked. "Hoping to finish the job, since you failed on the first try?"

He didn't react to her words. "Perhaps."

"_He_ won't be pleased that a certain pesky squire still lives. You know how _he_ feels about failure."

"There will be other chances to fulfill our master's wishes."

"We'll see about that, Sir Know-It-All." With those parting words, Delia glided past Alex and down the hall until she disappeared, taking her petty little thoughts with her. She thought she was the gods' gift to Roger, just because she was beautiful and could charm the breeches off of anyone, but Delia didn't have the valuable information that Alex possessed. She didn't know Alan's secret.

With no major duties to keep him busy, Alex had done some spying in the Lower City. He had followed Squire Alan, or Alanna, rather, when she slipped off all alone to consort with thieves and cutthroats, and he took to following her around the palace, where he hid in the shadows and fumed over the fact that a mere _girl_ was so skilled with a blade. Something held him back from telling Roger the truth about Alanna, though he knew Roger could easily probe his mind to discover all the secrets he kept, including his strange... _longing_ to kiss Alanna and destroy her at the same time. Alex had no Gift to shield himself from a powerful mage's curiosity.

He would tell Roger later, when he was ready. When he had finally sorted out the confused feelings that made him enter the infirmary and ask for a visit with "Squire Alan."

"Alan has specifically requested that no visitors come to see him," Duke Baird informed Alex, just as he told Delia minutes before.

Alex fixed his dark gaze on Duke Baird, staring him down with quiet determination. "It's very important that I see him, Your Grace."

"Surely it can wait until Alan has been released from my care. He's just had a healing."

"It's my fault he was injured, Your Grace," Alex admitted, choosing his words with care. "I won't rest until I apologize."

Duke Baird eyed him for one long, agonizing moment, as if searching for some ulterior motive, and at last he stepped aside. "Very well. But don't be surprised if your friend turns you away. I think we both know that Alan's a stubborn one."

Alex thanked the duke and found Alanna lying on a bed to recover her strength after the healing. She looked perfectly miserable, no doubt wising she was outdoors, and Alex remembered how much she hated to be idle. He realized he had started to smile and abruptly stopped, ashamed of himself for his weakness. He forced himself to replace the smile with a cold mask.

Alanna spotted him as he approached her bedside and sat bolt upright, a scowl on her face. "What are _you_ doing here?" she demanded.

"I wanted to make sure you're all right," said Alex.

"It's a little late to be concerned, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry about earlier. I... lost control." Alex placed the box of chocolates on the little table beside the bed, his every movement stiff and reserved. "Here. I thought you might like these."

She slowly opened the box, her face wary. Her eyes blazed when she saw the contents. "How do I know they aren't poisoned?"

"I'll eat one myself and prove it to you."

"I don't want your chocolates, Alex. I'd like to be left alone."

Her tone grated on his nerves, forcing him to remember that the girl seated in front of him was the enemy. She was a liar. A deceiver. A hindrance to Roger's plans. He wanted to crush her until there was nothing left of her to torment his senses, but he could only stand there with his gaze fixed on her bright purple eyes and her coppery red hair that made Delia's features look perfectly ordinary, and suddenly he knew why he had always been immune to Delia's beauty. The knowledge unsettled him.

"Alex?" Alanna's voice was confused, rather than angry. "Why are you staring at me?"

He took a step backwords, snapping himself out of the spell she had cast on him. "No reason," he said quietly, his eyes turning hard. "I'll leave you be."

"Wait. Alex—"

But he turned around abruptly and left the infirmary, desperate to escape her voice and her eyes and everything about her. She was slowly ruining him and part of Alex—the part that didn't want to admit that he was falling in love with Alanna of Trebond—wished he _had_ poisoned the chocolates.


End file.
